The Burrow

I love writing the cards and baking the brownies and decorating the packages and dropping them off in the post office, one by one down the chute, smiling as I send loving thoughts to the recipients. I love putting out the pillows and the candle holders and the door hangers.  I love watching my house move from TBG's Episcopal sparseness to his mother's Christmas-on-every-surface. There is nothing I relish more than an afternoon in a comfy chair, with a good book in my lap and liquid refreshment by my side.  It's even better if the sun is out and the temperatures are in the 60's -Tucson's version of winter - and if the book is #10 in a 20 book series, and all the remaining ten texts are on my bookshelf, on loan from the library, just waiting to be read. And that's where I am right now.  I have something from every column of my Smile Through December spreadsheet, and I don't know what to do.  I punted, earlier in the day, by getting my nails done.  Out wi...

Big Cuter says I never send him brownies any more.  We'll see if he reads this and reacts with a smile. I have something to send Megan, frequent comment-leaver and fierce woman incarnate, and it seemed silly not to send her brownies, too. Not-Kathy and Dr. K know the holidays begin when my brownies arrive; it's early this year, my friends. And, perhaps, my treats will arrive at R-Square's before their lands on my doorstep. It's Brownie Season, and I'm happy. I will not ruin it by thinking about that which I cannot change (ie. President-elect tweets) having done what I can to make my voice heard (emailed my Senators re: Jeff Sessions for anything). I will smell the baking and write the cards and start the season off with a full heart.

Thanksgiving was early.  Chanukah is late.  This is an extra week. My holiday season revolves around the baking and distribution of dozens of boxes of brownies. The fact that I didn't bump into December this weekend means that this is an extra week, a week which has no assignments, a week in which can be used to compile and prepare. It's a luxury I rarely experience. This year, as always, I lost the Brownie List.  Not the hard copy I always print out, the list of names I can check off as cards are written, labels are printed, and boxes are packed.  No, the list that Little Cuter created for me a decade or so ago, the one with the addresses, the Official Brownie List. I searched this PC  and documents  and Gmail messages and came up empty.  There were links to folders which had been deleted.  There was no Brownie List.  My girl attached it to the plaintive email I sent.  I realized that it was a Google Doc..... easily accessible f...

I've been re-reading Thanksgiving posts, and smiling a lot. Here is some of the joy.   I'll be back to reality on Monday; I'm taking the weekend off. ***** Memories Then: ..... of full bellies lying on the couch, begging for relief, as Hough's creamed spinach wound its way through an overloaded digestive tract..... ..... of my first niece, a veg even as a toddler, eating cucumbers for dinner and feeling just fine..... ..... of walks around the neighborhood, wrapped in scarves and hats culled from the front hall closet, surrounded by all ages and temperaments, mellowed by tryptophan On dinner in Cleveland Heights at Nannie's house: We'd sit in the dining room, using it, for once, as more than an inconvenient space between the kitchen and the tv room, sideboards groaning, waiting for Nannie's yearly screech.  Thanksgiving wouldn't be Thanksgiving without my mother-in-law jumping up from the table, just as the first fork was lifted and yelping,  ...

For my happy, healthy family, here and there, For my friends, near and far, old and new, and old-and-found-again, For the abundance of goodness I see every day, For the richness of the world I inhabit, For the fact that I am here at all,  I am truly thankful. Happy Thanksgiving to you all !

RE: The President Elect His phone call with Mr. Abe was on an unsecured line.  Surely this is as disturbing as Mrs. Clinton's use of a private server. His businesses are intertwined with the business of the nation, and his children (who cannot really run a "blind trust" for him, now can they?) are in the room making policy even as they plan to run the businesses after the inauguration.  How is this not a conflict of interest? His DC hotel touting their space to diplomats - how is this not Pay for Play? I am quite concerned about the integrity of our government.  I hope that you will pay close attention to these matters, as you have to Mrs. Clinton's emails. That's what I wrote in the space provided at the Blow the Whistle  tab on the  House Oversight and Government Reform Committee's  website.  I signed my name, and the site assures me that I'm safe:  Any personal information you provide us will be kept in strict confidenc...

I wrote this missive to my Congresswoman: Dear Rep. McSally, Silence=Acquiescence. Hatred, division, and vengeance have no place in civil discourse. Can you stand up for women, and our right not to be groped? Can you stand up for the First Amendment, and the right of cast members to speak truth to power: You took on the Air Force and won; I admired that.  Are you brave enough to speak out for others, too? I await your response.  Mr. Trump's behavior is often inappropriate - will you call him on it? I took my letter (handwritten, on my embossed stationary) to a Pantsuit Nation Tucson Meet Up  on the street in front of Rep. McSally's office.   There we stood, men and women of all ages and descriptions, holding signs and smiling at the cars passing us by. I joined them after thanking the Tucson Police for their presence in the parking lot nearby; they were looking out for us and that made me feel marginally safer.  Drivers slowed to re...

I spent Saturday sending emails to strangers.  Every time I hit SEND I smiled.  Big Cuter, comfortably ensconced on Douglas-the-Couch, wondered what was making me so happy. I'm hitting him where it hurts the most, and it feels great. What was it? #GrabYourWallet was created last month in response to Trump's bragging about sexual assault. They created a spreadsheet  of companies carrying Trump branded products and encouraged consumers to contact the retailers with this message: I'm a customer/fan of your brand. Unfortunately, I'll no longer be able to shop there because you do business with the Trump family.  If you were no longer to do so I would consider returning as a customer. Since Ivanka has campaigned so passionately for her father, I feel that her brand, too, has become politicized. This was something I could do, right then.  I wouldn't have to wait on hold, or be told that voice mailboxes were full (see tomorrow's post).  I could type a...

Little Cuter has bronchitis. FlapJilly screamed for an hour after pre-school yesterday.   DOUGHNUTS!!! DOUGHNUTS!!! DOUGHNUTS!!! TBG has had a chest cold for nearly two weeks, a cold I'd been fighting with Zicam spray until I decided that I was healthy and stopped medicating.  Now that cold is back, with a vengeance, and my throat is scratchy and my head hurts and my tummy isn't happy at all. But what's making me sick is Kris Kobach insisting that registering enemy aliens, or potential enemy aliens, or just Muslims in general is based on long-standing legal precedent.  Korematsu v United States was the 6-3 Supreme Court decision allowing for the registration and, ultimately, the internment of Americans of Japanese origin during FDR's administration. Antonin Scalia had this to say on Korematsu, back in 2014: “Well, of course,  Korematsu  was wrong,” Scalia said. “And I think we have repudiated it in a later case. But you are kidding yourself if you thi...

"I learned something right now.  I don't usually learn something but I learned something right now." Thus spake a 2nd grader, a young man who was working on distinguishing between the long and short vowel sounds.  We read the often used words as I tried to find examples of that-which-passes-for-rules in spelling the English language.   Two consonants after a vowel make a short sound (except when they don't) was simple enough, and so was an e at the end of the word makes a long sound. It got tricky when we got to cage and case and mice and nice.  That c  is quite a problem (as was quite,  but we'll get to that later.)  If it's cage and case why isn't it mike and nike?  The e at the end of the word was the clue, and his face when he realized that the e at the end makes the c an s  lit up the classroom. That's when he decided he'd learned something.  He went on to zip through the ce  words, and enjoyed the story to which they we...

She continues to inspire me, each and every day. She's so much better now, stronger and tougher  in her own words, which you can see in this video clip .  I tried to embed it, but the platform won't allow it. She's comfortable in her own skin, and that's the part that moves me the most.  She's not tentative.  She's smiling and she's joking - with her husband and with her dog.  Her words are more fluent and her expressions more reflective of her inner self. Aphasia, as Gabby says in this story, sucks.   The words are there; she just can't find them.  I cannot imagine the hours she's spent on her search.  My struggles to acquire a fluid gait pale in comparison to my Congresswoman's struggle to speak. And yet, she smiles.  She leans into Mark and he squeezes her shoulder and they agree that looking backward is useless.  There is only tomorrow.  I've heard Gabby say it.  I've heard her mother say it.  In the clip, I hea...

This was the only comment on yesterday's post: *** شرکت نوين گيت ***  با سالها سابقه در طراحي ،اجرا و خدمات سيستمهاي درب اتوماتيک و راهبند  فروش،نصب و راه اندازي و خدمات انواع درب اتوماتيک ( درب سکشنال  -  کرکره اتوماتيک  -  کرکره پنجره  -  درب ريلي اتوماتيک  -  جک پارکينگي  -  کرکره شفاف  -  رول گيتر  - انواع  راهبند  و  درب اتوماتيک شيشه اي ... )  خدمات 24 ساعته و شبانه روزي حتي در تعطيلات رسمي  مشاوره رايگان در تمامي مراحل I read it on my phone, while waiting for class to start in the morning.  My Android doesn't have an easily accessible translation service, so I spent the day wondering.  What had the beautiful Persian writer been trying to communicate?  Was she as thrilled with my hike as I had been?  Was she taken with my photos?  Was she offering her perspective on the world?  And how had she found The Burrow? Inquiring blo...

I wrote the first draft of this last year, just after Parisians were blown to bits in a nightclub. I took the same hike again this morning.  It was the first moment of peace I've had all week. The world is going to hell in a hand basket, and I'm feeling quite powerless , I wrote a year ago this week.  I was feeling the same emptiness this week, unable to put my angst into meaningful action right now.   I was on a merry-go-round, repeating my fears over and over and over in my head. It was not a good place to be.  My body told me so - I was lurching instead of walking, hunched over and back in my self-protective crouch.  I needed a fix, and Bag It! provided all the fixin's.  I could do a good deed, give back in a tangible way, and soothe my soul at the same time. And so, with Mary, my Yogi, leading the way,  I joined a Meditative Hike this morning. I strode up these steps with attitude. I did not use the handrail. I put each foot down,...

Say  THANK YOU to someone who served... or who is wearing the uniform right now.  It's the least you can do. And, perhaps, observe a moment of silence at 11am when the shooting stopped forever......... the first time. America is still America - in no small part thanks to them.

A friend threw up. I spent the day wondering ... about freedom of choice, about the status of friends, about bullying, and about Pantsuit Nation Young people were taking ownership of not doing enough, and then promising to share the love as they carried on. Mostly, I felt lost. And then the oddest thing happened; I held Robert Redford and Donald Trump in my brain at the same time.  The Donald didn't look any more comfortable than Redford's candidate after his unlikely win. (start at 2:04) , Checks and Balances.  The rule of law.  A free press.  An independent judiciary.  I pin my hopes on America.

I'm typing this on Monday night.  No matter what happens tomorrow, this post starts the same way: Can this really be happening? It's what Little Cuter and I kept repeating last Wednesday in the bottom of the 9th. ***** I'm typing this on Tuesday at midnight. Can this really be happening? John Podesta sent the campaign workers home.  Big Cuter and TBG and I have been on the phone for hours.  JannyLou and I have been trying not to puke. I've stayed away from Facebook; there's only so much angst I can handle. Can this really be happening? Is this my country?  Am I that out of touch?  Is most of America opposed to everything I hold dear? Can this really be happening? It was much more fun to say that when the Cubbies were winning.

Have you voted? Did you feel good about it? TBG and I cast early ballots before we left on our vacation. That was the last time I felt sanguine about anything. The FBI is leaking information to Rudy Giuliani.  The Director of the FBI is so afraid of Congress that he risked violating the Hatch Act, thus adding fuel to the email fire.  Donald Trump supporters freaked out over a gun that wasn't there, not recognizing the absurdity of promoting open carry laws and then panicking when they see weaponry. Republican leaders are voting for a man whose name they refuse to say in public. It's crazy time in America, denizens. There's no way I can be confident of the outcome.  The 538 podcast, the Keeping It 1600 podcast, Rachel Maddow,  Big Cuter..... they all told me not to worry.... until they started telling me to be afraid, to be very afraid. I fear for our country.  I fear for my granddaughter and all the other little girls who may grow up without Roe v Wa...

Little Cuter left us a list of things to do. This tiny museum was nearby, and FlapJilly agreed that it would be lots of fun to visit. It consists of relics of Michiana's past, donated by residents and collectors.  (Michiana is the area on the border of Michigan and Indiana, not, as I always thought, a separate town.) Miss Lexie gave us a introduction to the collection, reminding us that we could touch anything we wanted as long as we put it back where we found it.  We held a mastodon bone and a rabbit skin and petrified wood, but the little miss refused to smile or pose with them. This chair was Goldilocks sized, and she was quite comfortable. Unfortunately, the sign she is holding said "Please do not sit on the chairs." There was a 19th century school room and a Japanese Tea House in honor of Mishawka's sister city and there was this beautiful organ, with embroidered foot pedals.   Antique sewing machines and cooking utensils and a genera...

If this is Fall in Indiana, I'm never leaving. FlapJilly and I took a walk through the piled up leaves on her New House Street.  The smell turned me back into a little kid, flinging myself into the gigantic pile Daddooooo created under the pin oak tree.  He collected them in the basket of the sweeper, dumping load after load in an ever growing pile, crowds of neighborhood kids waiting patiently until he swept them all up. SIR is going to have to do some serious raking, if the leaves on these trees in his backyard ever decide to leave their branches. This must be a very warm corner; all the other trees in the area are deep red and yellow.  Only FlapJilly's trees are still mostly green. We didn't need jackets as we wandered through the  Potowatomie Zoo this morning.  I didn't worry about FlapJilly freezing in her I-dripped-lemonade-all-down-myself outfit.  She was dry by the time we got to the playground, after we fed the goats. I warne...

photo courtesy of  JPetersenPhotography There is so much love. So much. 

This is most wonderful garden center I've ever visited There was a choo-choo train, with a very punny narration of the grounds.   There was panning for gold. There were funny little houses. There were ostriches  (who knew their eyes were blue?) and there were fish. There were goats and pheasants and there were lots of ugly pumpkins. which reminded me of pumpkin patch visits in Petaluma. There were topiaries some of which reminded us of home. and alien spaceships and skeletons. There were lots and lots of plants, too, but we were having too much fun to shop. Little Cuter and I will, no doubt go back to shop. But, for today, this was quite enough.